Casual Trimming
by wolf00rakuen
Summary: Commission for my friend, a cosmetology student.


A recent graduate of cosmetology school, Jennifer was busying herself with her new clients. She had asked me to coordinate her appointment calendar for her so she had more time for cutting.

As I was kept busy scheduling the stream of new referrals, I barely noticed the tall man who walked in to inquire about the wait.

"I'm sorry, sir, we're not taking walk ins today. I'm afraid you'll have to schedule an appointment for tomorrow." I said, without looking up from the calendar I was filling out. The phone was ringing off the hook, and my brain was buzzing.

When he spoke again, I noticed a bit more.

"It seems like this is a hot spot." He said, nodding to the phone.

"Huh? Oh that. Yeah. She's a bit of a rock star around here." I smiled, and looked up. I froze. Tom freaking Hiddleston. "Would you like to set an appointment then, Mr...?"

"Just Tom's fine. And yes I would. It shouldn't take too long. I just need this under control..." he said, fussing with his hair until it stood up and pointing out a long spot that seemed to have taken off without the rest.

"Sure thing. What time?"

"Earliest is best. I have a flight out in the afternoon." He said, attempting to tame the crazy hair back to almost normal.

"First appointment is at 9, and it's open. Will that work for you?"

"I'll be there. Do you have a card I can call if needed?"

"Certainly. Here you are. Business aside, if you've a moment, the stylist and are admirers of your work. I won't mention that you're coming, if that's alright, it just might be the surprise she needs." I said smiling. He smiled back.

"Thank you very much. That's fine. I'll be back tomorrow."

8:50am

I arrived before Jennifer. She had been up late, frazzled from the day before. At least today was Tuesday. No one gets cuts on Tuesdays...right?

8:58am

Jennifer came rushing in, hanging her scarf and heading to a comfortable chair.

"How does the schedule look today? That phone didn't stop for the apocalypse yesterday!"

9am

"Actually, pretty dead except for a morning sparkler." I said, as I unlocked the door. "Tuesdays are slow compared to Mondays."

"A morning sparkler?" She asked, confused.

"Yeah. He should be here any minute."

9:05am

The bells on the door jingled wildly as the morning sparkler waltzed in, fashionably late in classic jeans and a red plaid button down.

"Good morning!" He sang.

I heard coughing from the back. Jennifer came out, eyes wide.

"Did I hear...who I think I heard?" She stammered.

"I think you did. I'm here for my 9 o' clock." Tom smiled at her.

"MORNING SPARKLER!?" Jennifer gasped at me. "Oh sweet Jesus this is better than coffee! How can I help you?"

Sitting him in the chair she found she had to lower it nearly all the way to accommodate his height.

"See this bit? It outgrew the rest, which.. is also slightly unruly. I just want it even...a bit longer on top than in the back. About 2cm in the back should be good."

He was pulling his hair like he did the day before, spiking it up and it looked like the craziest bout of bedhead in human history.

"Alright." Jennifer combed the locks to combat any knots he might have put in it with all his fussing.

I looked over from my book once in a while to see trimmings fall to the floor, and my friend's hands working skillfully with her tools to tame the crazy. The clippers always sounded so loud, and briefly ruined the peace of scissors snipping. He looked neater and neater. Soon I just heard the sound of a comb gliding through his hair, and the occasional pause-and-snip of the scissors.

Finally, I looked up and saw that she had successfully held her breath for 10 minutes. Taking a fresh breath, she surveyed her work.

"Do you like it?" She asked. She had just completed her handiwork for someone whose work she admired.

"Yes, darling, it's fantastic!" He said excitedly, running his fingers through it again. He stood up, stretched his legs a bit, and thanking her he gave her a hug and a kiss on the forehead.

He paid on his way out, and left a note as well. When the salon was silent again, save for the ticking of the clock, I brought the note to Jennifer's attention. He had written, "Jen, darling, you really are a rock star. Thanks a million!"

...And he had signed it, too.


End file.
